Something on my Mind
by LunaSteinberg
Summary: *Set after the Reichenback Fall* John picks up news on Sherlock, and is very confused as to how it makes him feel. Maybe a special delivery in the mail can clear his head... 3 JohnLock, rated M for later chapters ;)
1. Darkest secret?

This is my second fanfic. I'm not really one for writing, but I had this amazing RP session with an awesome chick on Omegle, and I just had to turn it into a fanfic. The real conversation we had won't begin until chapter 2, but I figured setting the mood is good too :) I hope you like it and please R&R!

* * *

It was a cloudy day. The thermometer showed a temperature of 12°C, a little colder than what would usually be the temperature of London around that time of year. John was waddling around the apartment, feeling a bit empty. He had recently quit his job as a clinic doctor (he didn't get fired this time) because he had what seemed to be a burn out. Indeed, since Sherlock had died, his life had become incredibly boring. He had to get a boring job as a boring doctor in a boring clinic with a boring- You get my point.

He'd decided to get a 'normal' job to get rid of his mourning thoughts of Sherlock. It occupied him so much that, by the time he would come home, he'd be completely exausted and go straight to bed. He refused to let go of the flat he shared with his friend, and quite cherished his place at 221B Baker street. With his new job, he could afford to pay the rent for the second floor of the building. Ms. Hudson also invited him downstairs to have supper with her occasionally, as they had become much closer since the event that so shocked John's life. Had it really been 3 years already?

John sighed heavily. He finally understood the state of mind of his friend when he was bored. I mean, John would have shot the wall too, if it meant procurring him temporary amusement, but he didn't, since he thought it disrespectful to Ms. Hudson's building. Well, that and the fact he didn't have a gun anymore.

When Sherlock died, John tried to get rid of as much evidence of the eccentric man's life as he could, before quickly regretting his actions, having nearly nothing of his friend to hold on to. He would have loved to keep Sherlock's scarf and long coat, but they would probably have been the first things he would have thrown out.

But things had settled down, and John had started to accustom himself to his new life. It was boring, but at least he still had the flat he so cherished, and all the memories of his friend. But since his burn out, he just had nothing to do! He tried to watch telly and catch up on shows he'd long missed out on, but he found everything too plain. He tried going outside, but his random walks would usually take him to places Sherlock and him had been before, and he'd end up getting depressed when unwanted memories gushed out. Everything else had just become boring. He once thought to start doing drugs to pass the time, but quickly decided against it.

He was now reading the newspaper, and had just finished reading the very last article. He looked at the clock. 11:48. God, was time going by slow. John gave a look at his laptop, and sluggered out of the covered chair to the big mahogany table that was holding his computer. He flipped it open and waited for it to turn on. Once logged in, he was deciding on what to do. Should he look up the Games of tonight? Maybe he should look upon further studies...

For God knows what reason, a sudden wave of loneliness crept around him, like an ominous aura about his small form. He felt the sudden urge to talk to someone, an urge which he hadn't felt since about 3 months before, when he was too occupied with work to actually talk. He figured "Hey, I'm on the Internet. There must be a bunch of people I could talk to," so he looked up 'online chatting' and hoped something good would pop up. And oh God, did it ever. He found a website called Omegle.

He clicked on the link, where he was greeted by the saying "Talk to strangers!" He read a bit of the text bellow the title. "Omegle is a great way to meet new friends. When you use Omegle, we pick another user at random and let you have a one-on-one chat with each other."

_That's odd_, John thought to himself, _a chat where both people are anonymous. How do I know who I'm talking to? How do I contact them if we become friends? Strange website..._ He decided to still give it a try. After a few boring chats, he decided he wanted a bit more fun. He remembered there was a setting on the home page where you could ask questions to others and watch them discuss it, or answer someone else's questions yourself. God, he could have a lot of fun with that. John smiled at all the endless possibilities he could do with such a thing, and decided to ask questions.

At first, it was just really random things like "Which do you prefer? Peanut Butter or Jam?" (cuz everybody knows John loves his jam) but it eventually changed to things like "If you could decide on having any superpower, what would it be and why?" (which is still pretty random, but pretty much every question on Omegle is).

He got tired of that too, eventually, so he decided to move on and be one of the unlucky saps who have to answer questions. He mentally prepared himself to answer weird questions and deal with weird people, but that was alright, it was all part of his fun. So after getting himself all pumped up, he clicked on the button that would undoubtedly make him have a good laugh or two. The first question: "Who is SH?"

He wanted to ask as well, but the other person only replied with "he's a fucking nerd", then disconnected. John thought that was quite odd. _Well, there are many different people on the Internet... I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding, but I'd like to see that question again just to see what other people think._

Maybe he was what people on the Web called "trolls", but he wasn't even exactly sure what those were anyway. So he kept answering questions, when he didn't get disconnected, and it proved to him some sort of sense of satisfaction. For once, people were actually listening to his opinions! They didn't have to care, or know those opinions are his, but at least they saw them.

As John was having fun with the whole 'people are finally listening to me' thing, the question popped up again. "Who is SH?" John's conversational partner only replied with "he's a douche, don't listen to him" before disconnecting as well. John thought this was quite strange indeed. Not only did people here seem to have a thing against this 'SH' person, but it... also sounded quite familiar. Like, he was used to seeing it, but had forgotten it over time. Why?

John hunted the question down a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. They were all still negtive. John finally gave up on trying to find the question, so he made it himself. He wrote "Who is SH? I keep hearing aobut him but I have no idea who he is..." into the engine and pressed enter. The first few people just disconnected, leaving him more and more angry, as he wanted to know so badly why it was that this person was so disliked among this online community. Then finally, his wish came true. One of the two people conversing had just the same question, and the othe other one had an answer.

_Question to discuss:_  
**_"Who is SH? I keep hearing about him but I have no idea who he is..."_**  
_Stranger 2: I have no idea either_  
_Stranger 2: people mention him here and there but idk who he is!_  
_Stranger 1: well, I've talked to him once..._

John's eyes lit up. Would he finally have an answer? God, he had to pierce this mystery. Sherlok would be proud of him for that.

_Stranger 2: !_  
_Stranger 2: REALLY? u have?_  
_Stranger 1: ya, he was a real ass, though..._  
_Stranger 2: well, I wanna know who he is, and I'm sure the asker wants to know too, so_  
_Stranger 1: okay, but I don't know a lot_  
_Stranger 1: I was answering questions with him once and he kept being all smart-ass-y so I disconnected_  
_Stranger 1: he just pissed me off!_  
_Stranger 1: and then some day, like 3 weeks later, I was just chatting randomly when I apparently started talking to him_  
_Stranger 2: okay? so... how did u know it was him?_  
_Stranger 1: he always 'signs' his replies with "-SH" all the damn time_

That's what rung the bell. The "-SH" at the end of every sentence... but where was it from again?

_Stranger 1: it's like... are you arrogant or just a royal pain in the ass?_  
_Stranger 2: lol I hear ya_  
_Stranger 2: well, that helps a lot, so, see ya!_  
_Stranger 2 has disconnected._

So that was it? Just some person going around writing "-SH" at the end of their He'd gotten so worked up over nothing. Before John realized it, it was already past 2 in the afternoon. At least he had his answer, well, most of it, anyway. But his afternoon was going to get even more surprising when he got back to answering questions. After about 3 questions, he was already tired of this activity for the day, but he decided to keep going for one last question. And then there was one of the weirdest, yet most personal questions that someone could have ever asked him.

**"What's your deepest, darkest secret?"**

John didn't know at all what to answer, and his partner wasn't responding either. At least neither one had disconnected. _Should I really give out my deepest, darkest secrets or just make one up?_ John thought alarmedly, _I mean, it's not as if anyone will know it's me, but..._ His train of thought soon halted as he saw that the other person had started writing. And all of a sudden, he saw his response.

_Stranger: ...It's complicated. -SH_

_Oh God, it's him. It's him! It's that "SH" guy that people are talking about! But... that signature, didn't... didn't someone used to text me that?_ John reached for the phone in his pocket.

_Stranger: Even if I would tell you, you wouldn't believe me. -SH_

His heart beating wildly, he went on the contact list and saw but one name that said it all...

_You: Sherlock?_


	2. Special Delivery

Sorry if this is badly written; I wrote this on NotePad, and there's no spelling correction on that lousy thing... but it's the only thing my laptop has! So please bear with me! /' I don't know if this is in character for Sherlock enough, so please tell me if something seems off. Thanks! :)

* * *

_Sherlock?_

What the hell was going on? Sherlock was dead... how could John possibly be talking to him right now? As the questions raced along his mind, there came a reply.

Stranger: John?

It was him, there was no doubt about it.

You: Sherlock, how... how are you here?  
You: I thought you were dead!

John couldn't believe his eyes. How could Sherlock still be alive? He saw his friend, lifeless, on the ground, that fateful day when he jumped off that building 3 years ago. Nothing made  
sense anymore, but John tried not to overthink, since he didn't have that much energy.

Stranger: Well, John, it's quite complicated -SH  
Stranger: And I can't exactly tell you this right here... -SH

But just before John asked what the hell was going on, Sherlock disconnected. (i)What? I finally get to talk to him after all this time, and he disconnects? I might never get to talk to him again!(i) But before John could even begin to complain about his friend's strange manner, his pocket started vibrating, so he took out his phone. There was a new message. It said "Hello, John. -SH"

John's fingers started trembling. Would he really get to talk to Sherlock? Was it really him? Was he dreaming? He better not have been, or he'd never want to wake up.

_Sherlock, is it really you? -JW_  
_Who else would it be? Anderson? -SH_

Good to see he was still picking on the guy after all this time. Wouldn't be like Sherlock, otherwise. Those two always had this strange, bitter relationship... John smiled slightly at the thought that maybe his friend hadn't changed after all. But he became serious again after contemplating how he'd get info out of him. I mean, this_ is_ Sherlock we're talking about. At least now, John could be frank about his feelings.

_You're alive? How come you never told me? -JW_  
_I couldn't tell you. That in itself would have blown my cover. -SH_  
_I was so worried about you, when I saw you lying on the ground there... -JW_  
_I really thought you were dead. -JW_  
_Really? Well then, I'm glad it worked. -SH_

Glad? He was _glad_?! John practically had to control himself. He was either gonna explode from shock or rage, and neither sounded good right about now.

_You bastard! How can you just talk to me like nothing happened?! -JW_  
_John, I can explain... -SH_  
_You were DEAD! Explain that! -JW_  
_Explain why so many times, I thought about you and cried! -JW_

John's fingers were still shaking with emotion. He would have sent "Explain why everyone was crying at your funeral, then," but he decided against it. It wasn't gonna do him any good to piss off Sherlock if he wanted to find out what happened. Wasn't Sherlock feeling any bit of regret? He'd been left completely alone for 3 years. 3 years spent in perpetual solitude. There had always been something missing inside of him since then, mostly because some things should have been realized and said while he still had the chance...

But John wasn't going to keep harking on the angsty feelings inside of him. Sherlock was alive! There couldn't have been a bigger joy than that for John to possibly consider. At least they could keep talking for a while, and John didn't want to throw away his friend, now that he was back.

_John, those assassins were after you. -SH_  
_If I didn't 'kill myself', they would have hurt you, and everyone else involved in our life. -SH_  
_I'd never allow harm to come to you, John... -SH_

Tears started building in the shorter man's eyes. He was in the military, damn it! He was supposed to be tough and manly! But seeing how Sherlock was being earnest about wanting to protect him, how could he possibly have stayed mad at him?

_I'm sorry. -SH_

John couldn't answer. Maybe it was his pride, maybe it was the shock. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was just so relieved about Sherlock still being in existence that he couldn't compose himself together. All these emotions, all at once... they were certainly something that would drive a man into another burn out. Finally, when he came out of his little though bubble, John thought he should at least let his friend know he was still here for him.

_I'm just... so glad that you're okay... -JW_  
_I was so sad when you died, Sherlock. -JW_  
_It's like a part of me died along with you. -JW_  
_Well I'm glad that you hold me in such high esteem, John. -SH_  
_Thank you. It was quite hard for me as well, not being able to be with you... -SH_

That last text made John smile. Of course Sherlock had missed him, he only had the doctor as a friend. So then what did he do on his spare time?

_So then what did you do on your spare time? -JW_  
_Surely you didn't hang out with other people? -JW_  
_No, but apparently you and I had the same idea about Internet chatting. -SH_  
_But don't worry, I've been keeping up with people's lives now and then. -SH_

John giggled. He was surprised at how lighthearted he was feeling while just 5 minutes ago he was full of rage and still under quite the shock.

_Of course you wouldn't busy yourself with people. That would be human of you. -JW_  
_Well, what's a sociopath like me going to do? -SH_  
_How could I ever turn human from the thing that I am? -SH_  
_At least that hasn't changed. -SH_

John paused for a moment.

_So you're still the same crazy, reckless eccentric you were before? -JW_  
_Always, John. I wouldn't change for the world. -SH_  
_Even if that world will soon be within my grasp. -SH_

_What the hell does he mean by that?_ John thought worriedly. Did Sherlock become some sort of secret agent while he was in hiding? _Well, that would certainly explain how he kept himself busy during those 3 years..._ Even though he wanted to question him further, John didn't really push it that far. He might've pissed him off, so he decided a more playful approach should do the trick.

_If we ever meet again, you know I'm going to strangle you, right? -JW_  
_I'd expect nothing less of you. -SH_  
_Maybe a beating would ensue. In any order you prefer, you do have a right to be mad. -SH_

All these jokes about old times were making John melancholy again. He started to cry, happy that it _was_ really Sherlock talking to him, and he was still the same weirdo he was before.

_Thanks a lot, now you've made me cry. -JW_  
_But I didn't even hit you. -SH_  
_No, but just wait 'till I hit you! You'll be sorry! -JW_  
_Indeed, I look forward to it. -SH_

Wait, what did he mean by that? He _wanted_ John to beat him up? But that would mean they had to meet... and how would they do that if Sherlock couldn't come out of hiding?

_Listen, are you... planning to come to 221B Baker street soon? -JW_  
_I'd really like to see my friend again. -JW_  
_We're both going to have to keep a low profile a bit longer. -SH_  
_Even this is risky. -SH_

Sherlock was right. It was pretty risky for them to be texting. He was supposed to be dead, after all. What if somebody was tracing his texts? Then they'd both be in trouble. While John was busy comtemplating the risks of keeping a conversation with Sherlock, he received a new message.

_It won't be much longer, I promise. -SH_  
_I missed you, John. -SH_

John couldn't exactly respond right away. He was sorta taken aback by what Sherlock had just said. _That's pretty... direct... even for Sherlock._ His own feelings towards his companion were baffled for a short while, but John figured it would be best for him to be honest as well.

_I missed you too. -JW_  
_It's gotten pretty lonesome without your going all over the place. -JW_  
_Trust me, I know. -SH_  
_You crazy sociopath. -JW_  
_You bet your ass. -SH_  
_No, I don't bet anything. -JW_  
_When you go to war, you learn that betting your life or your body is really a 50-50 chance. -JW_  
_I was lucky to make it out of there alive! -JW_  
_I was lucky you did too. -SH_

John was kind of surprised. (i)What the hell does he mean by that?(i) The blonde was pretty sure nothing on his friend's part could surprise him by now, but this? This was just... strange. Was there some kind of secret message or something?

_Lucky why? -JW_  
_That you made it out alive. -SH_

_Huh?_

_I would never have met my best friend otherwise. -SH_

Now this was just getting... weird. Sherlock, acknowledging him? He was actually being nice, for once. Maybe 3 years had done him some good. John's heart kept beating faster; no words could explain how happy he felt to hear that from Sherlock.

_Sherlock... -JW_  
_Hmm? -SH_  
_I'm glad I met you too. -JW_  
_You certainly made my life a lot less boring. -JW_  
_And you made mine a lot less lonely. -SH_  
_You've made me more... human. -SH_

Sherlock, human? Did he read that right? Well, he did say "more" human... which means he wasn't there yet. Good. John could only handle so much change at a time.

_But do you think yourself as human? -JW_  
_Well, biologically speaking, that's what I am. -SH_  
_I thought you'd know that by now. -SH_

John snickered. _Still making fun of me, aren't you? Well, at least you haven't changed that much..._

_I was talking metaphorically. -JW_  
_Well, if I was "human", it would be quite strange, wouldn't it? -SH_  
_Yeah. Imagine the great Sherlock Holmes with human thoughts and emotions... -JW_  
_That'd be quite a change. -JW_

Sherlock didn't respond for a while. After about 5 minutes, he thought that was pretty strange for his friend. Before, during their conversation, it seemed as if Sherlock was right there by his phone, just waiting for his flatmate to send him another message. But now, there was no response. John couldn't take the question any further, so he instead sent him a little remark.

_Well, it'd be strange, that's for sure, but nothing I couldn't get used to. -JW_

And now he was waiting. His heart was beating fast again, trying not to fear the worst. _Did something happen to Sherlock? Oh God, if something had happened to him..._ While John was starting to panic, he received a new message. He tried to calm down to read it.

_So am I broken or fixed now? -SH_

Then another silence. Was he waiting for John to answer? Apparently not, as the latter received another message, that indeed, made Sherlock seem a lot more human.

_I miss our flat. I want to go home. -SH_  
_I want you home too. -JW_  
_It'll be great to catch up. -JW_  
_I don't need to catch up on you, but you need to catch up on me. -SH_  
_That is, if I'm not too hurt from your hitting me. -SH_  
_Well, that depends on how long you keep me waiting to see you. -JW_

Wait, what did he just say?

_Wait, you mentioned earlier that you've been keeping an eye on me. -JW_  
_What's that about? -JW_  
_Hopefully, I won't gain punches for this, but I've been concerned about your safety. -SH_  
_And I don't think I could have lasted this long without seeing you... -SH_  
_Sherlock, I... I don't know what to say... -JW_  
_I know it must sound pretty strange, but not beeing to able to see each other is worst than trying to quit smoking. -SH_

John would never stop being surprised by this strange man. Sherlock always seemed emotionless, but now that'd been away for so long, he finally let himself go about his feelings? Well, at least, that was as close to a compliment as John was ever gonna get from him.

_I'm just... surprised by this whole thing... -JW_  
_Well then, you've got another one coming. -SH_

_What?_

_You're about to hear a knock on the door in a few seconds. -SH_  
_You better come and open it downstairs, I don't think you'll be able to carry it upstairs. -SH_

That's when John heard a knock on the door. Exactly as Sherlock said. _But how would he know? Is he watching me?_

You're at the flat, aren't you? -SH  
Well, where else would I be? -JW  
And what could be so big that I couldn't carry it upstairs? -JW  
Have you forgotten the definition of surprise, John? -SH  
Of course not! Not with the one you gave me today... -JW  
Then trust me, it'll live up to its name. -SH

John smiled. Sherlock might have been extremely weird and arrogant, but at least he showed his one and only friend that he cared. John got up off his seat in front of his laptop, which had gone into sleep mode, and left the flat. He started going down the stairs, when he sent:

_Well then the discussion topic of today was pretty accurate, then. -JW_  
_About what? -SH_  
_About dark secrets. I never would've guessed you were still alive. -JW_  
_That's not what I meant, but... -SH_

John didn't really get to that last text because he was so taken aback by the big crate in front of the building. It was huge! How was he ever going to carry that upstairs? Unless he wasn't supposed to? But how did Sherlock even know about the package being there anyway? God, what did he have in mind?

_Sherlock, what the hell did you send me? -JW_  
_This box is huge! -JW_  
_Well, I can't tell you. Not until you open it. -SH_  
_I'm afraid to... -JW_  
_Oh, come on, just do it. I swear it's not... too frightning. -SH_

What the hell would Sherlock possibly put in a crate that could frighten him? There were way too many possibilities, so he just narrowed it down to the simplest sollution.

_Is there a dead body in there that you want me to put in the fridge? -JW_  
_Because if yes, you're too predictable. -JW_  
_No, actually. Quite the opposite. -SH_  
_What? There's living person in there? -JW_  
_Sherlock, what have you done? -JW_

What the hell was he thinking, putting a living body in a crate? That madman! Maybe he was a psychopath, after all! John started looking around Ms. Hudson's closet for anything that could bust open that crate. Good thing she wasn't home, or she would probably have screamed at him. While he was panicking, Sherlock was still sending him texts.

_Well, you'd find me crazy if I told you. -SH_

Silly Sherlock, shouldn't he have learned that no matter what he did, John would always find a thread of insanity in him?

_Now I'm not too sure about opening the box. -JW_  
_Who's in there? -JW_  
_How do you even know there's someone live in there? -JW_  
_How did you know there was a package at my door? -JW_  
_Well, I'm the sender, of course. -SH_  
_But I never said there was a person in there. -SH_  
_Come on, just open it. -SH_

John finally found a crowbar. Just like Sherlock said. He would have wondered how Sherlock remembered there being a crowbar in Ms. Hudson's closet, but he forgot for a moment that his friend also used to live here.

_Ok, I'll do it. Just be glad I trust you. -JW_  
_Oh, don't worry. I know that. -SH_  
_I've been playing on that right from the start. -SH_

_Wait, so this whole thing was about me trusting him? But in what would that..._ and then John caught on to something. Sherlock knew there was a package at his door, and he said John trusted him. _Could it be that...?_

_Sherlock, I can't do it, I can't open the box. -JW_  
_Why not? Didn't you find the crowbar in Ms. Hudson's closet downstairs? -SH_  
_I'm talking about the closet down the hallway TO her appartment, not IN her appartment. -SH_  
_No, no, I found it. -JW_  
_I'm just... scared that the content of that crate isn't what I think it is... -JW_  
_Well, I can't promise that it is what you're expecting, but I hope that it is. -SH_  
_Even if it's not, I'm sure you'll be pleased anyway. -SH_  
_There's only one thing in that huge box that could posibly make me happy, but I don't think that's what it is. -JW_  
_If it is, you're a madman. -JW_  
_That fact has been established ages ago. -SH_  
_If you don't remember, you're memory is about to be refreshed very soon. -SH_

Now he was almost sure of the contents of the box, and his heart was beating fast again. If it really was... "that"... which was inside the box, he would freak. God, today had been hectic with his feelings riding on a roller coaster and all. He was sure gonna need to head to bed after this.

_No, really, Sherlock, don't tell me I'm going to have a heart attack when I see... "it". -JW_  
_It all depends on you. No promises. -SH_

He took his courage with both hands, and decided it was better to get it clear once and for all.

_I don't want to ruin your fun, but I think I know what's in the box. -JW_  
_And what would that be? -SH_  
_It's you, isn't it? -JW_  
_John, remember the box. -SH_  
_You might want to hurry, it's perishable. -SH_  
_But I think I'd rather make "it" suffocate in there. I have every right to. -JW_  
_I know, but why torture yourself? -SH_

John gave a small sigh.

_Sure, I'll let you out, just hold on. -JW_

He flailed the crowbar at the crate in order to break the wood and make a hole. After about 30 seconds of nonstop hitting, some of the wood finally gave way, enabling John to catch a peek at Sherlock's crouched figure on the inside.


End file.
